


Run Rabbit Run

by ClementineStarling



Category: RocknRolla (2008)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineStarling/pseuds/ClementineStarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lenny is watching the relationship between Johnny and Archy develop...<br/>until the day comes he feels he needs to put a stop to it. </p><p>Regarding the warning: Nothing specific or even graphic is happening here. Perpetrator POV though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run Rabbit Run

It starts with the funeral. An awkward pat on the head, the long-fingered hand mussing up the boy's hair, and a couple of whispered words, Lenny doesn't catch, though he doesn't miss the gesture itself, an unfamiliar scene. At first he doesn't think much of it. Giving consolation is simply what people do at funerals, and apparently even Archy isn't immune to such customs. But it doesn't end there. In the following weeks, Archy takes more and more notice of the boy, talks to him in passing, asks about school, about anything else he can think of, always in the same slightly awkward way, as if he is uncertain about how to deal with a ten year old, but that doesn't seem to stop him either. And it's not long, until Lenny begins to wonder, where this unexpected change of heart comes from. Some similar stroke of fate in his past perhaps? Some experience of loss that connects them?

Len knows nothing of Archy's childhood, and he's never bothered to ask. And why should he? It doesn't matter for the job, does it? But the recent disruption in his normal pattern of behaviour makes Lenny curious. Usually Archy doesn't give a fuck about other people – he is a natural born hermit, if Len's ever known one – except for Lenny of course, but that's different, cause he pays him for it, and good money too. Archy's friendship doesn't come cheap. Still, it's a good investment, or at least has been until now. Len can't put his finger on it, but it feels like something is changing, and he doesn't like it. Doesn't like it at all. So he decides to keep a closer eye on the situation.

There is this peculiar thing about Archy – as little as he cares about other people, for some unknown reason everybody bloody loves him. Len can only assume it's because he's handsome and calm and as solid as a fucking rock. Archy never acts out of a temper, he is efficient, cold-blooded, but never cruel, and he radiates a kind of serenity that makes people flock to him as if he'd provide them with some sort of emotional shelter. 

The boy is no exception to the rule, Len has seen how he looks at Archy, like a flower gazing at the fucking sun, he adores him, worships him even, and Lenny feels, somewhere deep down in his greedy black heart, that he cannot have that. Isn't it him, who deserves that look? A little gratitude perhaps for taking him in, giving him a roof over the head, when he could have just as easily got rid of him, handed him over to social services. It's only for his mother's sake that he provides for the little bastard, and now he doesn't even give credit where credit is due, but hangs on to Archy, almost literally clings to his coat-tails, and claims his attention where it should be reserved for business (and Lenny himself). 

And Archy, who normally keeps his walls up, and doesn't let no one get too close, indulges him, smiles his famous smile that makes the years melt from his face until he looks like a boy himself, brings him sweets, comic books, not to forget these dreadful late 70s punk records, shows him a couple of moves, punches to throw, even takes him to a bloody football game once. 

Len doesn't know when exactly he decides to send the boy away to boarding school, pretends it's got nothing to do with a scene of domestic bliss, he stumbles upon one Sunday afternoon: Johnny and Archy sprawled on the living room sofa, between open crisp bags, laughing, playing a silly video game together. He tells himself, what he feels at the sight has got nothing to do with jealousy. To have the boy out of the house is only a matter of practicality, and in everybody's best interest, isn't it?

The plan works perfectly. As soon as the boy is shipped off to some posh school, daily routine returns to the household, and Archy to being his former self – expensive suits, solemn expression, all sleek and servile, Len's good-looking shadow; and when there flashes something like concern over his face, it's always reserved for Lenny, just like it's meant to be.

The boy visits over Christmas, but the end of the year is always a busy time and Len has Archy work extra hours, so they won't have too much time together; an arrangement that fulfils its purpose, they hardly see each other.

Then, much too soon, the summer comes, and with it the holidays, and the months of quiet are over. It goes again “Archy this, Archy that, look Uncle Arch what a good little boy I am.” And Len can't stand it. Can't stand the noise, the insolence, the sheer presence of that cheeky bastard and how it messes everything up. 

He tries to beat the defiance out of him, but all it achieves him is more resistance and a raised eyebrow from Archy. He knows better than to open his mouth though, at least that's something Len can rely on. But there is something else that bothers him, something he is not too keen on naming, so he lets it slip from his mind, as if he couldn't quite understand what it is.

Another year passes until he sees something in the boy, that really scares the crap out of him. Johnny is twelve, almost thirteen, when of a sudden there is another sort of challenge in his smirk, another kind of mischief glinting in his eyes. He has grown out of his chubby child-body, is all long, lanky limbs and slim hips now. Pretty. Almost as pretty as his mum. And he knows it, it's unmistakable in the way he looks at Archy now, with this coquettish tilt of the head and the almost casual flicker of his tongue over his lips. The boy is a slut, if ever Len's seen one. (Well, of course, he's seen plenty in his time, had them all before he lost his taste in their lies and cheap flattery, because he met _her_ and she had been perfect, despite her insolent brat of a son, gentle and kind and beautiful, and Len truly loved her, even though she could not bear this love in the end. But aren't the most precious things always the most fragile?)

Now, that Johnny's turned out queer is not what Len scares though – to be honest it's hardly a surprise. It's not even Archy's reaction, who almost loses his cool when confronted with Johnny's advances for the first time, a response that is unintentionally telling. Len's not come this far by being deaf and blind. Some part of Archy _wants_ , the dark and unrestrained part of him, that usually he's got so perfectly under control, but another, the calculating, even more dangerous part has decided against it, and that's what makes Lenny uneasy. Because he knows how from now on, Archy will watch with Argus eyes what's going on. Will recognise the same forbidden desire in others and will deny them with the same rigour, what he doesn't allow himself. Archy is such a good watchdog, fierce, sharp, merciless. It will be only a matter of time until he finds out. 

And that's what Len fears. 

That Archy'll see the bruises on Johnny's skin, the welts left by the belt, the swollen cheekbone, the split lip, and _know_. That he will look him in the eye and _realise_.

Len's always been afraid the day would come he'd have to choose between them, at least since that moment at the cemetery, and he cannot say it doesn't pain him. Archy is his best man, reliable, loyal to a fault, a friend almost, but he can't have him getting in the way, not now, not when things are just getting so good with Johnny. It'll only last a few more years, four at the most, so perhaps it's not that hard a decision. He can always get Archy back later. He will be even more thankful for his job then, Len is pretty sure. Prison does that to a man – puts everything into perspective. 

“He's getting a bit greedy,” is the verdict that seals Archy's fate, a good enough explanation for sending him away for four years. In Sydney Shaw's organisation there is always someone out for something that doesn't belong to them, so no wonder no one bothers to ask what it is, that he wants to keep to himself.


End file.
